Kayla of the Fire Nation
by Alana C. Jones
Summary: As Zhao's daughter grew older, he always worried about her lack of firebending ability. He hoped that her being a nonbender was the worst of it, but he knew a far worse reality to be possible. When Kayla has a mysterious accident that leaves her with amnesia, she's given a clean slate on which to plan out her life - but which life?
1. Waking and the Dream

I knew I must be hallucinating when fire was shot at my head.

"What the heck? Are you trying to kill me?" I yelled in the direction of the flame where someone was standing. It occurred to me that the fire couldn't have been their fault. "I'm sorry for accusing you of throwing fire at me. That's crazy, and I overreacted," I apologized before they could respond.

"Who are you?" the person demanded as they lit a fire in their palm.

"YOUR HAND IS ON FIRE! Pat your hand against the ground to stop the fire, and I'll see if I can find some water!" I panicked.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, of course I'm not kidding. Aren't you the slightest bit worried that your hand is engulfed in flames?"

"Well, this is the Fire Nation. Now, answer my question before I set you on fire. Who are you?"

"I'm, um, I'm… I'm not sure…"

"Kayla! There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you. Come one. Let's get home." A man in red came up to me. He had a mustache, huge sidburns, and short hair. He grabbed my hand and started pulling me away from the guy with the fire. He had a vice-grip; I couldn't squirm free. He made a quick bow to the fire guy. "Thank you for keeping an eye on my daughter."

"Of course, sir." He nodded to the scruffy guy (apparently my dad) and walked off.

"Now we're going home, young lady," he said assertively. "I've told you a thousand times not to wander to the outskirts of town!"

I was terribly confused and scared, but I was worried that, if I was to say something, I'd be in more danger than if I stayed silent. He dragged me down streets, becoming more crowded as we ran. By the time we stopped, I was entirely lost from all the twists and turns and people. We stopped in front of a black marble house with red trim. We headed up the walkway,  
>and he banged upon the dragon-shaped knocker. A man in a fancy tuxedo (you know, like with the tails) answered it.<p>

"Welcome home, Master Enoki. I see you found Miss Enoki." He glowered at me, something that Father-figure Dude missed. The moment passed, and the butler opened the doors wide to allow us entry.

'Dad' dragged me through the open door. I took one last fleeting glance at the outside world, worried I'd be stuck inside for a while. The doors were tightly shut behind us, and I turned around to face the entrance hall. I'll admit that it was an amazing sight to behold. For starters, it was huge. There were banners and curtains draped from the ceiling braces. The braces were made of granite instead of marble. Everything looked extremely regal. Yeah… there was no way I lived here, nor did I want to.

"Close your mouth. It's not very attractive to let more mouth hang open." I hadn't even noticed that my jaw had dropped. I quickly closed it. "Thank you. Now go up to your room. Douglas will let you know when dinner is ready." The butler bowed again.

I looked up the maroon carpeted staircase. There had to be at least a few dozen rooms. "Where is my room?" I said, realizing a moment too late that I'd spoken aloud.

"Are you purposely trying my patience? You know perfectly well where your room is!"

"I'm sorry, Dad, but I really don't know."

Did you hit your head or something while you were off gallivanting, because you're acting really stupid?"

I thought hard and realized I didn't know things that should be common knowledge. This time, I deliberately said, "Maybe I did hit my head." out loud.

"Well, I'll let you get away with your idiocy for now. Come on." He led me up the flight of stairs on the right, down a hallway, and to the third door on the left. "This is your room. Remember it," he demanded as he walked back down the hallway. I took a deep sigh before heading in, afraid of what I'd see.

It was ten times worse than I'd expected. There was pink everywhere; all different shades from light to almost red. My head started to ache and spin. The sight physically hurt. I felt a tug in my gut, and I had a feeling I was going to puke pretty pink glop, and no one would ever be able to find it. I crossed to my bed and sank into it. It was very soft, perhaps down feathers. The covers were a fine silk. So far, it was the only thing I liked about this room, the only reason I might consider staying in this entire house.

I heard a banging, or rather a knocking, and my eyes flew open. I have no memory, and I'm in someone's mansion. They claim to be my father. That's probably just one of the servants, maybe it's Douglas. Yeah, remain calm. You're fine, I thought to myself. I crossed the room and threw my door open. As I'd predicted, Douglas the butler was standing still as a statue.  
>"Dinner is ready, Miss." I followed him back down the corridor, the staircase, and through a side door I hadn't noticed. We passed through a dining hall that could probably seat 30. "We will not be eating in here tonight. Master would like a chance to speak with you. Well, at least try to speak with you. He's not the best conversationalist." There was a small room at the end of the dining hall that was set for two but could possibly cram four. My dad was seated on the cushion facing the wall opposite the door. He turned when he heard the door close.<p>

"Oh hello, Kayla. Please, take a seat." I sat down on the empty cushion. I noticed Douglas slide out as I tried to find a comfortable position to sit in. "Well… you see, I wanted to talk to you about, um, you know, what happened when your memory left.

"I don't know. I've already said that I don't remember anything. I wish I did, but as hard as I try I can't.

"Yes. Yes, of course. The thing is, I'd, um, we'd had some disagreements about you going to the outskirts of town before, and well, then this happens, and I think you get what I'm saying.

"Kinda," I responded honestly. "It's kind of like 'I told you so'."

"I wasn't going to put it that way, but that's basically the idea."  
>"The problem is you didn't tell me. You told that to someone that I once was but no longer am. That brings up a question that I have for you. Why did you not want me to go to the edge of town? I mean, we obviously live in town, so why were scared of me to go elsewhere within it?"<p>

"Not every part of the city is equally safe. The edge is the least safe because the guards, admittedly, need to be fired. They were once soldiers and have seen terrible and bloody battles. They're not quite mentally stable and act rashly. It's very dangerous to approach them from behind," he explained. Then, as an afterthought he added, "There are also many rocky foothills just behind the guards. Some people say there's a lot of magic around there. So, of course, you have to go out there."

I thought about what he was saying. That actually would make sense, seeing as the first thing I remembered was almost having my hair singed off. That also would explain why it took so long to get back here, which was evidently near the center of town. I guess I had to believe his story; there wasn't any other story for me to believe. I nodded and poked my rice with the chopsticks.

"Well, what do we do now? I can't just go on, knowing nothing about myself and pretending like everything's perfectly normal."

"I guess I will have to reteach all that I knew about your life. Obviously, I didn't know everything. There was plenty of stuff you kept secret from me, but I'll try to help you get your memory back."

We spent the rest of the meal eating in silence.

I felt very weary on the way back to my room. I don't know if it was because my head was spinning from this overwhelming day or if I'd just eaten too much. Either way, my head hit the pillow, and I fell asleep instantaneously. My dream gave me a worst headache than my day had given me. It looked like I was in a dark space looking out into the entrance hall. I had to be in a side closet because I didn't have a clear view of the room. There were two men in the room, my dad and a man I didn't recognize. They were both dressed in armor, as though this were a battlefield instead of a mansion.

I could tell Dad was yelling and that he was frustrated, but I couldn't tell what he was saying. He screamed "ARGGGGHHHHH!" but in a masculine way. Then fire shot out of his fist, he stormed upstairs, and the other guy walked as calmly as he could out of the house. The door slammed, and I woke up.

So, my dad could do that thing with fire that the guard had done, and he was in the military. No, I was being ridiculous. That was just a dream. It was probably just my thoughts from the previous day mixing themselves in my brain. On the other hand, was that just a memory of the thousands that I'd lost? I didn't really want it to come to this, but after a few minutes of indecision, I decided I'd have to ask him at breakfast. (Knowing nothing sure does suck.)


	2. Fun and Fright

I exited my room and looked both ways down the hallway. It was the third door on the left, so I needed to turn right. I walked down the corridor until I reached the staircase. I followed the path that Douglas had showed me the night before to the large dining hall. When I got in there I felt my face got hot, and my face must've been brighter than my room. Sitting at the table were about two dozen men with my father sitting at the head. They were all dressed in military outfits like I'd seen in my dream. When my father saw me, he stopped speaking to other men and turned to me. "Good morning, Child. Would you please wait outside for a few more minutes? We're almost done here."

I nodded and headed back out into the entrance hall to wait. I guess that confirmed that at least part of my dream was true. Dad was in the military. It still didn't prove that he could do that strange stuff with the fire. I got bored really quickly tapping my fingers gently against the wall. I wanted to know what was going on inside. Maybe whatever was going on in there could be of some help to me. I'm not sure how it would help, seeing as I probably was never allowed in those meetings before, but it was still worth trying anything that had even the remotest chance of helping.

I was about to explode from my boredom when the meeting finally ended. The door opened, and all the men exited the dining/meeting hall. Dad was the last to leave. He was talking to a man that looked vaguely familiar. I gasped. He was the man Dad had been talking to in my dream. There was no way that dream was a coincidence. It had to have been a real memory. I was sure of it now. Then what was that thing with the fire. That had to be real too. Now I knew I needed to ask my dad about it.

After he closed the door behind all of them, I pulled him over. "Dad, I need to talk to you."

"What do you need to talk about?"

"I had a dream last night, but it was real. I remembered something. I was over there when I saw the whole thing." I pointed to the closet that I'd found on my way down earlier this morning. "You and the soldier that you were just talking to were here discussing something. You seemed pretty mad, but I don't know what it was about. All I know is that, at the end, you yelled really loud and… and…." I was hesitant and was struggling to get the words out. I don't know if I was just scared or shocked by the reality of what was on the tip of my tongue.

"What happened when I got mad?" his tone didn't sound frustrated, but a bit worried.

"You, um, well, you…shot fire, out of your fist…."

Dad pursed his lips. "I figured you might be talking about that. That actually happened many years ago. You would have only been like six then. The soldier you speak of is a childhood friend of mine. His name is Raiden. He stood behind me on a battle strategy that got shot down when I tried suggesting it. I wasn't frustrated with him. He's just used to my yelling and was willing to listen to me take my anger out on him. By the way, firebending is completely normal. That's a common trait of many people in the Fire Nation, being capable of firebending. I'm just one of many that have the skill."

"It's normal? I don't seem to remember anything about my past, yet I do seem to have some common knowledge, and that knowledge says that fire does not shoot out of people's hands, let alone can be controlled in any other way by a human being."

"I don't know what kind of logic you have, but you have trust me that it's perfectly normal." To prove his point, a small flame flickered to life in the palm of his hand.

We're back again to the first thing I remembered after being struck with amnesia. We were also back to 'I guess the evidence backs up your insane statement.' "Okay, so can I do this firebending?"

"Not as far as I'm aware. You've never shown any indication that you could be a firebender." He frowned like I had just done him a great disappointment; I suppose firebending would be pretty awesome, and I can see why he'd want me to be able to do it.

"Well, I have to be retaught what my life was. I could try firebending too. Maybe doing something that's so important to our culture would bring back memories. I mean, the first memory led me to wonder about firebending. It's worth a shot."

He smiled and nodded. "Don't get my hopes up," he said jokingly, but I could hear there was a seriousness, and almost sadness, behind it.

"Well, what should I start remembering first?" I said, changing the subject and trying to lighten the mood.

"How about we start with breakfast?" he replied cheerily, and we walked off towards the kitchen.

After a breakfast that was uneventful compared to the morning's start, Dad decided to lead me on a tour of the mansion. There wasn't much on the ground floor, just a few guest rooms, the dining hall, and a ballroom. Of course, the ballroom was absolutely huge. I yelled, "Hello" and it reverberated across the walls several times. My dad chuckled and pointed off to the left. I realized that the direction wasn't for me, however, when I looked over and gazed upon a magnificent sight. Douglas (that wasn't the magnificent part) was sitting at a red baby grand piano. Behind him were a tsungi horn player, a cellist, and a flutist. Douglas counted silently one two three one two three. After the second round of conducting, the orchestra started a quick-moving but peaceful tune. Dad held out his right hand. "May I have this dance?" he asked. I nodded, and we walked on to the dance floor.

At that moment, I learned something about myself and about my dad: We were terrible dancers. We were stepping on each other's feet. I got stuck on the twirl. For the finale, he only threw me a couple inches, and I barely caught myself from falling on my face when I landed. In other words, it was the most fun I'd had since I lost my memory. I laughed and smiled when he lent a hand to pull me back up off the floor. We decided to leave; the flutist needed to practice her solo.

The ground floor was nice, but the upper floor (where my room is) was beyond extravagance. From the corridor, it didn't look like much. However, beyond some of those doors were even more corridors. There were a dozen guest rooms upstairs. Douglas's room was just across the hall from me. My dad was the first room on the right in the first corridor from my room. At the end of the main corridor was what had to be at least the greatest room in the house. It was a band room with just about any instrument you could ever want to play. "You need to pick out an instrument. You used to practice every night. It was your way of escape, I guess. I'll leave it a mystery as to what you originally played. I don't want that to influence your decision now."

As I've said, there were a lot. How could I pick just one? I walked over to a mandolin and tried strumming it. I sound like a cat dying came out of it. That isn't what drew it away from me though; I didn't like the feeling of my fingers on the strings. I put it down and shook my head.

I went from instrument to instrument trying each one. I just couldn't get a right feel for any of them. Finally, I found the perfect instrument. The wood was soft under my fingertips, and it fit perfectly in my hand. When I took my wrist down, it bounced back up smoothly with the stick. I started off slow and gradually changed into a roll into a flowing roll. The sound was so rhythmic. The sticks did exactly what my wrist told them to do. "This is one," I said self-consciously.

"The drum is a very good choice. It plays a very important role in a performance of keeping the rhythm throughout the orchestra. A very interesting choice…" I didn't like the way he said interesting, but I just shrugged it off. He lightened up a little bit. "Come on. We'll finish the tour after lunch." I guess that's just how Dad is. When in doubt, decide that's it time to eat.

The next week or so went on uneventfully. I would wake up, eat breakfast, talk to Douglas, practice percussion, visit the library, eat lunch, talk with Dad about my past starting from before I was born, play outside, read what I got from the library, eat dinner, explore the random empty guest rooms, and go to bed.

It wasn't until the middle of my second week there that anything, but the excitement didn't last long. While doing my evening exploration of the house, I noticed a stairway leading underground on the base level. I stood for a moment to consider the consequences, but my curiosity got the better of me. I looked around the entrance hall and headed down the stairs. I just barely caught myself before I screamed and blew my cover.

It smelled horribly like rotting flesh. Oh yeah. That's because there were rotting corpses, all over the dungeon. Skeletons with their bones almost fully picked clean were laying in piles in three of the four corners. Along the left wall were several cells with half-rotted bodies slumped on the floor, dangling from chains on the wall, and, oddly the scariest of all, reaching out through the bars with looks of horrible grief on what was left of their faces, as though they'd died pleading for their lives. I was in complete shock for a moment. Then, I screamed.

While my vocal cords had found out how to escape the shock, my limbs still seemed too stunned to work. It wasn't long until I heard two sets of footsteps on the stairs. Douglas and my dad burst into the room. Dad grabbed my arm and made to pull me back aboveground. With Douglas's help, he managed to get me back into the entrance hall. I stumbled to find my words. "W-why do y-you… How did t-that… W-what the h-heck?" I think I made my concerns very clear.

"Listen Kayla. That came with the house. It's a mess, and I don't want to clean it up. As a general rule, we all just avoid going downstairs. Please, try to put it out of your mind. I don't like it much either." He didn't sound very convincing.

Then, by the next morning, the stairway was sealed up, and my life fell back into its typical routine.


	3. New Person Now

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender. If I did, we'd all take cover in a metal box.

* * *

><p>I hate schedules. They're always the same. You know exactly what's going to happen every day. Luckily, the world doesn't like to live by schedules. Just when you think your life has reached its lowest level of boredom and monotony, life throws you a curveball.<p>

It was summer, and the weather was starting to warm up. Well, it's a general rule that all of the Fire Nation has a warm climate, but now is when it starts to get hot. I was outside playing like I often do in the afternoons. Normally, I have to play by myself. I don't see many kids pass by on the busy streets, or they don't notice me when I do try to say hi. I asked my dad once why I hadn't seen any of my old friends, but he somehow managed to avoid answering. I promised myself that this day was going to be different. Someone was going to stop and talk to me. I start all over again with making friends. For a while, I just practiced drumming on the sidewalk and watched the traffic. Then, I heard a voice. "Hey, you stuck up little brat!" I went back to feeling glum. There was just some street fight going on. I'd seen that enough times to know it would be pretty boring. Then the person spoke again. "I'm talking to you. At least look at me instead staring down at your shoes. You trying to avoid me, because you know I'm right. You are a brat." The voice was closer. I looked up; three big, ugly guys were standing in front of me.

"Do I know you?" I asked hesitantly.

"Look guys. This girl thinks she's too good to remember me after so rudely acting me. I guess a peasant like me isn't good enough to remember."

"What's your problem with me? I've never even seen you, let alone acted rudely."

"You're starting to make me really mad. We're not going to put up with it, are we guys? You know what, rich kid? I challenge you to an agni kai, right now!"

"What's an agni kai?"

"The daughter of an admiral not knowing what an agni kai is? That's just sad. Well, because being the child of an important military man makes you a moron, I'll explain. An agni kai is, quite simply, a fire duel. We use firebending against each other. Whoever takes the other down, wins."

I bit my lip. "I can't firebend. I'm trying, but I can't do it," I said honestly.

"Not a firebender? Your dad is so going to disown you when he finds out. See, the admiral only wants children that can be violent jerks like him, always using their power to control people."

"Really? I've only had a few months to get reacquainted with my father, but he's seemed pretty nice while trying to help me relearn about my life."

"What's the need for reacquainting? He's your dad. Don't you already know him."

"Nope. I guess I was doing something stupid and bumped my head pretty hard. The lump's still there, and my memory's nowhere near back."

"Is that why you didn't remember me?"

"I don't know. Maybe I was a jerk. Maybe you weren't a lost memory. I don't know what I knew and what I didn't. However, you seem to know me. Could you help me with what I did outside of the house, when I wasn't with my dad?"

"Um, sure, but I kinda hated you, so it may not be a very accurate judgment."

"I don't care. If I was a horrible person, I need to know that just as much as I need to know the good things about me."

"Okay… you were intolerable and hated by just about everybody."

"hmmm, I wasn't a good person. Well, let's take a walk around town, and you can tell me why I was so horrible. I mean, in a way I'm not that person anymore. Maybe I can try to right my wrongs. Besides, I haven't gotten a chance to explore the city, and it's so nice outside today." The guy shrugged, which I assumed meant fine, and we walked away from the heart of the city.

Later that night at dinner, I asked my dad about what the kid had said. "Was I a jerk before? Did I really abuse the power of having a military father?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was talking to some kids, and they said that I'd been exceedingly rude to them. They said I was probably that way because you were. I just want your side of the story too."

"My side of the story is that those kids are the jerks. You're a very kind girl, and those peasants are morons to say you're not."

I jumped up from my chair at the word peasant. "Maybe they were right about you. You immediately assumed these guys were peasants just because they were bothering me. We are full of ourselves. Well, I can't change your attitude, but I can fix my reputation. I'm going to spend more time trying to befriend the 'peasants' instead of hanging out around you." I got from the table and stormed upstairs. I slammed the door in my dad's face and locked it before he could catch up with me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way," he apologized. "I just know that richer families are given a hard time by those who are less fortunate. Also, I knew that you'd had trouble some merchants' sons. I guess I just assumed that's who you were talking about."

He sounded sincere, but I still wouldn't let him in. It was quiet for a few minutes longer before I finally heard his footsteps receding down the hallway. Now I was really confused. Dad had been teaching me about how great and kind and wonderful that I'd been. Then I get some kids that want to destroy me. I didn't know who to trust. Naturally, I knew my father better, and, well, he's my father, so I should trust him. On the other hand, being my father would make him want to stretch the truth to try to make me feel good about myself. Also, I still wasn't feeling so comfortable about the basement. He told me it came with the house, and I couldn't figure why he would buy a house with rotting carcasses in the basement. Plus, he said he'd had the house since before I was born. What was there should've only been bones. Things just weren't quite adding up. It took me a long time to get to sleep, and I woke up multiple times in the middle of the night anyhow.

Until things took a turn for the worst, I spent a lot more time in the library, with Douglas, or in the band room; most often, the band room was my choice. I don't know why, but there was just something calming about beating on the drum and practicing rhythms. I felt like I was part of the flow of the music. That was also the reason I hung out with Douglas. They didn't have a tympani player in the orchestra, so I asked if I could join them. We practiced three days a week. Everybody there had been working on their musical talent a lot longer than I had, but they still welcomed me as if I were as professional as they were. I guess we felt the same way about music; it was a way of escape for us. If we were feeling down and depressed, we could express it through the melody, or we could play a happy melody to try to bring our spirits up. If it wasn't for the time I spent with the orchestra, I think I would have been tempted to run away from home.

The other four days of the week were divided into three parts. Two of the remaining days I spent reading up on as much history as I could. The other two days were divided between learning 'proper etiquette' from Dad and actually learning to act kind and civilized from Matt, the guy that had challenged me to an agni kai.

It was a schedule, but it was a fun one. I learned to be a good person, I pretended to cooperate with my dad (which made him happy), I got the chance to play out my soul on a magnificent instrument, I learned about a war, and I realized the history books in our library were a load of bull. They said a lot of opinionated stuff, like "The Fire Nation is the best. The other nations suck. Blah blah blah." There weren't any actual facts. They didn't have any real reasons why the war had started. There was also something about a search for some guy that was more than likely dead (Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.) I asked Matt about the war. He gave me the same moronic answer that the textbook did. I decided I'd have to let the subject drop. I obviously wasn't going to get any answers.

In the fall, I began going to school. That was so complicated with the amnesia thing that I refuse to bring up the details. My classes weren't any better than the orientation. Math and science were okay, because they had to follow fact. Though someone even those classes managed to feed me all this propaganda about different nations. However, combined it wasn't even half the bull they fed us in history class. I am interested in the past, but the way that class was taught was almost unbearable. And music, ugh music class, it was just a nightmare. Everyone was terrible. There was no melody, no feeling no rhythm. They were just strumming, blowing, or pounding. They weren't feeling the music. All the emotion was taken out of the pieces. Evidently, though, feeling the music was a bad thing, so I got in a lot of trouble for actually putting effort into my performance.

I seriously wouldn't have made it to the solstice if it hadn't been that the orchestra was practicing harder than ever for the winter banquet that Dad was going to host. Everyone would practice their solos while I was at school and while I was doing my homework. Then we'd practice as a group, and Douglas and I would stay back at the end to practice individually. We were the two percussionists, so we practiced together.

A gong sounded throughout the school. It was finally winter break. I lifted my head off the book. I'd been using as a pillow and ran out of the school. I was one of the first five people outside. Along with me was Maria, the only friend I'd managed to make since the start of school. We walked home together. On the way, we discussed how easy the final quiz of term had been. It was one question, one that I'd come to realize there wasn't a decent answer for: Why should the Fire Nation win the war? We also talked about how her family was doing. Her brother had finished school last year and had gone off to help fight. As far as Maria knew, his squad wasn't in any fatal battles, and he was still in good health.

We reached my house. "You're just going to hang here until the banquet, right?" Maria's family wasn't the richest or most well-known, but as my friend and a military family, I'd managed to convince Dad to invite their family to our winter banquet.

"Yeah. I told my parents this morning that I'd see them in the evening. I'd somehow manage to find them in the ballroom. Do you need any help with some last minute decorating?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Not sure. It might've been finished while we were in school. Why don't we go and find out?" We ran into the house and found the ballroom.

I accidentally ran into Douglas whom was carrying an oversized load of decorations. "I am so sorry," I said. "Let me help." Maria and I crouched down and started picking up various objects. There were streamers, lanterns, sheets that were probably tablecloths, balloons, and other miscellaneous stuff. "Have they even started decorating?" I asked, picking up one more Fire Nation insignia banner.

"I'm afraid they and I haven't. Only the tables have been set up. And these are all the decorations that we have. We're going to be working right up to the banquet."

I looked down at the decorations in my arms. "Now let me get this right. It's the winter banquet, and we're using red decorations instead of wintery decorations?"

"Don't you listen in school? Water is fire's opposite element. We decorate are home with the colors of our nation, not of someone else's." Douglas made it sound like my question was really stupid.

"Okay… Well then, let's get going."

"What are you talking about?"

"Maria and I, we're going to help. By the sounds of it, you guys could use a few extra hands." He couldn't argue with that. He shrugged, and we set off the ballroom.

Nothing done was an understatement. It was pathetic. When Douglas said that the tables were set up, I assumed he meant large serving tables. Instead, there were only three measly picnic tables lined along the back wall. The floor was filthy, but it would have to wait until the decorating was done. The orchestra's playing space had yet to be sectioned off, which bugged me to no end. "This is just sad," I said to no one in particular. Then turning to Maria, I asked, "You helped redesign your family's living room, right?"

She nodded. "I've got a talent for reorganizing."

"That's good, because this place needs some major changing." We set off to work, leaving Douglas with the rest of the decorations. The tables were the first things to go. As we were trying to drag the tables out the door, the flutist from the band walked by. I asked her if she knew where some nicer tables were, and she directed us to a storage closet just down the hall. We thanked her, grabbed a table, and started slowly making our way back to the ballroom.

It took us at least half an hour to get all the picnic tables moved out and all the banquet tables arranged in a way that was to our liking. By that time, most of the banners had been hung up, and everyone but Maria and I were blowing up balloons. While everyone was doing that, we got some streamers to block off an area for the band. We found some poles in the storage closet to hold the streamers up. Once we got the area sectioned off, we ran upstairs to gather the instruments and bring them in.

It took several trips. We started with the flute and trumpet, followed by the cello and tsungi horn. It took our strengths combined to carry each of the four tympani drums, and we had to get the help of two other band members to carry the piano down. After we took a breather, there was just one thing left to do.

I headed out to grab a broom, but Douglas stopped me. "Have everybody clear out. Let me deal with the floor," he said. I insisted on helping, but he was very stubborn on the subject.

Eventually, I agreed. We all left the room. I was surprised when he called us back in after only a few minutes and was even more surprised when I saw that the floor was so clean I could see my reflection in it. There was no time to question him about it though. Guests would be arriving within, and we still needed to tune the instruments and set the food out. We hurried off to the kitchen.

The ball started off smoothly. It was just an average and boring gathering of socialites and funny-talking aristocrats. Our band practice had paid off. There had been one song that always gave us problems in practice, but we managed not to screw it up enough that anyone would notice. After a few hours, we began to tire of playing, so the backup players took over. They played much simpler songs, but you couldn't really tell that they were easier unless you had the sheet music in front of you or really had an ear for the music.

Separated from our instruments, we were all free to go off and socialize. Just two problems: I didn't know any of these people, and, from what I'd learned from being in school, I'm not much of a social butterfly. I mean, I only have two friends, and one of them is the butler. There was even a time when I first went to school and that one kid got mad at me when Douglas was my only friend. Yep, I'm totally sociable.

This lack of social skills led to me just spending my time hiding off by the wall, talking to Maria, and trying to avoid being noticed by anyone. We were chatting about stupid stuff – School, the dance, and some boy she liked. I myself wasn't all that interested in discussing romance, but I guess when you're not worried about your memory, you have time to fall in love.  
>This is starting to get boring, so let's move on another hour or so. That's when this gets interesting, if only for a moment. I was trying to sneak around everyone and make my way out of the ball without anyone who actually cared where I was going seeing me. I had made it all the way out into the entrance hall when I bumped into the one person that definitely high on the list of people that cared what I was up to – Dad.<p>

There was something not quite right though. He was in full battle armor, he was carrying a really old scroll, and he had luggage by his side. The armor was the weirdest part. Of course, I was already aware that my dad's an admiral or something, and he'd left before. Still, there was something that just felt different about this time. Normally, I'd know ahead of time if he was leaving. It wasn't like him to just wander off in the middle of a banquet that had been his idea to host in the first place.

"Are you going somewhere, Dad?" I asked, startling him.

"Kayla, I was worried I wasn't going to get to say goodbye before I left."

"That didn't answer the question." I stated bluntly.

"You remember that dream you had the first night after you lost your memory?"

"The one with you firebending? Yeah, I remember that. What about it?"

"Do you remember why I was so angry?"

I had to think really hard to remember. "Umm, you had a plan. You presented your idea to the Firelord, but he refused it. He didn't like the idea."

"Exactly. Well, since there's been a new Firelord for a little while now, I decided to try presenting my plan again to him. He, unlike his father, liked my plan. I'm headed off with a fleet of ships to put the plan into action."

"How long shall you be gone?"

"I'm not sure to be honest. It depends on how long the siege lasts. I don't expect to be gone long though. I will return home a hero, Kayla."

He gave me a hug and headed to the door. He turned one last time to look at me from the open doorway. I smiled kindly at him, and he smiled back (though for a firebender, he's never been very good at warm smiles). Little did I know that I'd never see my father alive again.

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><p>Review. It'll make me happy. (Oh, and don't expect updates this often. i just already had the first 5 or 6 chapters typed up before I published.) tune in next time!<br>Don't forget to vote on that poll!


	4. More Than Meets the Eye

cliche title only becomes more of a cliche everytime someone uses it.  
>Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar the Last Airbender. If I did, I wouldn't be wasting my time with fanfics. I'd be getting y'all a new season out faster than you could say platypus-bear. I'd also be having a nice little chat with a certain M. Night Shyamalan. *evil smirk*<p>

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><p>I stood there for quite a while. I didn't like that Dad didn't know how long it would be until he was back. He also had tried to make it sound really important. "I will return home a hero," he had said. He made it sound like his mission would be the most memorable thing the world would ever know.<p>

After a good part of an hour, I remembered I was supposed to be somewhere. It was probably time for the backup band to rest and time for me to get back to the tympani. I reluctantly plunged back into the aristocrat mob.

I don't know how exactly, but I managed to find my way all the way back to the band's playing area. There I found all the other members waiting for me. "Where have you been?" Maria asked with a tinge of annoyance.

"I ducked out for a little bit and lost track of time," I responded, thinking it best not to mention my dad until the banquet was over.

"Well, hurry up and get in position. This song is almost over, and we need to make the transition of the instruments as smoothly as possible."  
>For anyone listening, it would sound like I was playing the music the same way I always. I managed to only struggle with the parts that I'd already been struggling with before. I wasn't feeling the music though. The music wasn't filling me up inside, its tone taking control of my feelings. I felt too much worry for any of the joy that was in the melody to be allowed in. Worry is something full; it completely engulfs you. Even so, by being filled with worry, or with grief, it makes you feel more hollow than feeling nothing would feel. I really hoped the rest of the band didn't notice that I didn't even grin on the last tympani roll of an accented fortissimo (generally really fun just to wham on it).<p>

It was long after midnight, and everyone's arms were killing them when the ball finally came to a close. All the guests were happily chatting away as they left. Those who were sticking around or, you know, lived here, now looked about as glum as I did, so I didn't stand out so much. Being the ones who weren't leaving or weren't super-rich aristocrats, we were responsible for taking the place back down. In other words, we were all going to only get about zero hours of sleep. Well, it was better sooner than later, so we all began groggily ripping stuff off the walls and taking the tables back. Earlier, Maria and I had the strength to carry the tables by ourselves. Now, several hours later, it took most of the band to get the tables put away. The flutist would've suffered a terrible injury from falling off the ladder had the giant pile of streamers and balloons not cushioned her fall. (Her skin did get a bit red from the exploding, or possibly imploding, plastic.) We saved the large instruments – tympani and piano- for last, which was probably a mistake. We were so groggy that I don't even remember how we ever managed to lug those things upstairs and down the hall.

I also really don't know how everyone else made it downstairs to their rooms. I basically passed out as soon as I reached my bed, still wearing my ball gown. By the way, don't ever try doing that. It's exceedingly uncomfortable. I was luckily so tired that my sleep was dreamless, which I definitely hadn't expected.

I woke up the next morning still very drowsy. I came downstairs to find Douglas staring up the staircase. He turned and spoke to me when I reached the bottom.

"It's nearly noon, and your father hasn't come to breakfast yet. I'm getting a bit annoyed," he said, his tone casual.

"He's gone," I said, almost not letting him finish his sentence. My reflexes responded so fast that it took me a while to realize he'd said that it was nearly noon.

"Gone?" he asked. "Do you know where?"

"Something for the war. It was a plan he'd had prepared for a while, but he didn't have permission to put it into action or something. You know, all that war crap."

He nodded. "Well, this isn't the first time he's left. It just would've helped if he'd let us know. There's no use wasting time thinking about it. Come on. Breakfast has been getting cold for the past four hours."

After breakfast, I decided to follow Douglas around (It's the winter holidays, and my one friend is busy. What else am I supposed to do?) It may not seem all that interesting, but I was actually very fascinated. He was such a hard worker. Still, he somehow manages to do so much housework and keep the band organized. Let's see, we swept the floors and, strangely enough, dusted the walls. That took up a good chunk of the afternoon since the house has a lot of floor and a lot of wall. Laundry went pretty fast. We washed the clothes in nice cool water. We hung the clothes up, and Douglas turned around to go inside. It would take hours for the clothes to dry. I didn't possess that kind of patience. I looked at the clothes and thought about them being dry, all the water to just fall out. I didn't actually expect it to work. I suddenly felt like I had control of the water in the fabric. Experimentally, I moved my hand down. The water just fell out like some kind of magic.

"Umm, Douglas," I said confused, "the clothes are dry."

"That's not possible. We just…" he started to say as he turned around. He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the clothes, not a drop of water to be found on them. He looked at me inquisitively before grabbing a basket and saying, "Let's take them inside then."

I didn't deliberately mean to be rude, but I absolutely refused to help fold the laundry, and that was the last thing that needed done. Everything else had been done while I'd been asleep. I decided to head up to the band room. It was the best place to think about things that are bothering you.

What happened with the water was bothering me. I should have been happy. All clothes were clean hours ahead of schedule, but it was still nagging at the back of my mind. I shouldn't have had any control over it. I shouldn't have felt that connection. The problem was, I had and I did. I walked over to the cupboard where the percussion II instruments were kept. I grabbed a few out and started absentmindedly making up a rhythm with them. It was nothing extraordinary, but it helped me think.

What had we learned in school, about the water tribes? People there could control water, similar to the way people here could firebend. Could that be what I'd done, waterbent? There was no way it could have been. Genetics didn't allow a waterbender to be the son or daughter of a firebender. The nation the parents belonged to, whether they are benders or not, would be the nation of their child and would be their bending abilities if they had any. I shouldn't have been able to waterbend. If anything, I should have been a firebender, which people had already told me I never was. Logical reasoning states that there's no way I'm a waterbender. Still, what had been with that look that Douglas gave me? It was as if he knew something I didn't and was hiding something from me. I knew that it would be unwise to press the issue any further with him. He wouldn't say anything even if he did know something. I decided the best thing to do was just enjoy the rest of the afternoon. I practiced the rudiments on the snare drum until everyone else showed up for practice when the sun first started paling to a light pink. For the rest of the evening, I avoided saying anything about earlier events in the day.

The next morning, I headed straight to the library. I've said before that the books I found when I first went were all really stupid and not well-informed. Well, that was because I wasn't digging deep enough. I had to go further back, all the way to a second door that I hadn't noticed previously. I expected it be locked, but it wasn't, maybe because the camouflage already hid it so well. I pushed the door open. It creaked slightly, but it was unlikely that anyone heard me.

It was a few shades light of pitch-black. I had to feel my way around the room. Since I couldn't find a candle, I just blindly grabbed as many books as I could carry off the shelves and carefully made my way into my room. I gently placed them all on my bed. I hadn't been able to hold many books, though the ones I got were rather large. It looked like I'd found the legends and myths shelf. I would start to read one and realize it was just a bunch of stuff about random people from different nations who had some run-ins with the spirits. All the books could have been one, or of the same series perhaps. The point was they didn't have the information I was looking for. I was hoping to find some books on the water tribe, try to make sense of what was going on. I loved to read though, so I lay down, grabbed one of the folktales, and started to read.

By the time I was done reading, I almost forgot that I'd wanted to get nonfiction. The stories proved to be a lot more interesting than I ever would have expected them to be. The folktales in the first book didn't make much a lot of sense, but the one of the earlier stories in the second book had a strange familiarity to it. It was a local legend about a spirit that lived in the mountains. It changed what would've been someone's future. They had been horribly misinformed about things that had happened in their life. The spirit interfered when they went into the mountains; it made them forget all they'd learn, give them a chance to see the world with fresh eyes. I tried to remember way back about half a year ago, when I knew nothing. I had been in the mountains, and it had probably been right around the summer solstice. I'd read in other folktales that the solstices are when the lines between the two worlds, spirit and mortal, become blurred.

Could this story be more than just a myth? Maybe I was like the person in the story, my mind blurred by what I'd been forced to believe, so those memories were erased. Then, why was it me? Any kid that goes to my school would have had the same mindset. I tried to think of any other reason I would be targeted, anything that made me so unusual. Then I thought of something, actually, two things. My lineage could be the reason. I had a military admiral for a dad. That would make me different. I also thought that it might be because of something I refused to confirm as true yet. If I had a connection to two opposite nations, as a waterbender and the daughter of a firebender, that would make me unique. I had a reason to like them by being partially one of them, but my schooling would've driven me away from those connections. I didn't want to admit that I was a waterbender, but that was the only explanation I could think of.

I'd been in school long enough to know something. I was now in a lot of danger. If anyone found out that I was a waterbender, I'd be dead. Still, it was really hard not to tell someone. For example, when I passed by Douglas on my way to the library to put the books away, I was barely able to keep myself from yelling, "Guess what? I'm a waterbender!" It just explains so much. I ran off as quickly as I could when I remembered that no one could be trusted, not even Douglas, not even Maria, not even… Dad.

I brought a lantern with me this time, so I could see to put the books back. I worked quickly. I put the books back where I'd gotten them from and left without getting any more books. I tried not to admit it to myself, but that room really scared me. I was headed back upstairs when I walked past the hall closet; it was off to the side, so people would have a place to put their coats but wouldn't be appalled by its dysfunctional placement. When I saw the closet, I realized something. The only time I'd been far enough away for the house to be out of sight other than when I went to school was when Dad had dragged me home from the outskirts and the one time with Mark. I lived in this town, but I knew about so little of it. My curiosity got the better of me.

"I'm headed out!" I yelled into the silence. I figured someone had to have heard me, so I grabbed my jacket and ran out the door. As I walked, a feeling of happy anticipation grew stronger and stronger. I knew that I was just walking around town, nothing that's a big deal, but for some reason it gave this sense of rebellion, like I was going against some unspoken law. There was nothing the matter though. The only thing I remember about where I'm allowed to wander is I can't go to the outskirts of town. As long as I stay away from the harbor and away from the coast, I wasn't technically doing anything wrong. With that thought in mind, I began to skip down the path.

I soon thought I'd found the reason why Dad hadn't said anything about staying out of the city. The streets were barren. There wasn't a person in sight, and I could hear the wind blowing across streets. How odd, I thought. Even on my way to and from school, I've always seen people out, hanging out with their neighbors or out shopping. I've never seen or heard the streets so empty.

Then, finally, I heard something. It sounded faint and distant at first. I started to run in the direction of the noise, the first sign of life that I'd found since leaving the house. Very slowly, it grew louder and louder. I turned one last corner and was hit by a spectacle of insanely magnificent proportions. Now I knew why the streets had been barren. There was a festival, and it looked like just about everyone was there. Lanterns and streamers hung across the square and along the buildings. There were vendors everywhere and a stage at the other end of the square. The square was so busy it was nearly impossible to walk through. The stage was empty, so my original impulse decision to go up there got canceled out. I squeezed my way through a clump of socializers and around some ground decorations toward a vendor that was miraculously without a line.

"What's all this about?" I asked the man.

He looked at me like I was crazy. "Have you been sleeping under a rock? People haven't stopped celebrating for a few days, and only now did you notice this was going on?" he replied in shock.

"I, umm…don't get out much. But why is everyone celebrating?"

"Wow, you really don't know anything." (I felt offended.) "The troops are headed to the North Pole. They're being led Admiral Zhao, and by the time they return, the Water Tribe will be nothing but a vague memory. They say the admiral has some plot up his sleeve that'll leave them pathetic waterbenders powerless."

I audibly gasped and took an involuntary step backwards. That news probably would've disturbed me even before I'd found out that I was a waterbender. Now that news bothered me even more. My dad was leading an army to destroy the people of the Water Tribe and, in a way, my people. I wish I would've known. Maybe I could have persuaded him not to go. I was horrified. I hadn't even been at the festival very long, but I decided I'd been there long enough. "Uh, thanks for the help. Well, bye." I ran off.

I had been so excited to find some form of life. I didn't want anything to do with them now. I was sure that they all knew what the festival was about. They were celebrating the fact that a bunch of waterbenders were soon going to die. I had once thought that my dad being an important military official made him really awesome or a hero, but now all I saw when I thought about him was a monster.

I slammed the doors shut when I got home, loudly hyperventilating. I threw my coat untidily in the closet and flew loudly up the stairs. I didn't stop running until I'd safely barricaded myself in my room. A minute or two later I heard a knock on the door. "Who is it?" I yelled through the door.

"It's just me, Douglas. I heard you come in in such a hurry. Is there something wrong?"

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm just…tired." I knew it sounded lame, but I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Why did you lock the door then?" he asked logically.

Sometimes I really hated how smart that guy was. There really was no way to explain locking a door while you're sleeping. There are reasons; none of them though, even the truth, were rational. I pulled my dresser away from the door and unlatched the door. I opened it just a crack. "I was out in the city, and I saw and heard some stuff that left me a little paranoid…"

"Yeah, I knew you headed out. You found the festival, didn't you?" he asked in that knowing way that tells you it was actually a statement and not a question.

"Am I the only one that didn't know about the festival?" I said exasperated.

"I made sure you didn't know. I knew that, if you figured out who you were as I had and saw that festival, something like this would happen."

It took me just a moment to figure out what he was talking about. "Wait, you knew that I was a waterbender?" I shouldn't have been all that surprised. Douglas is a really smart person.

"I'd had my suspicions, but I couldn't be sure until the events of a couple days ago. Now there is no denying it. There's no way that you couldn't be a waterbender."

"Wait," I said, again, "you had your suspicions before? When did I give any previous indications that I was?"

He looked at me sadly. (I had opened the door fully by that time.) "It's not that you ever showed signs of waterbending. It's that you didn't show signs of firebending. Your mom tricked your dad into believing that she was Fire Nation, but she had the undeniable characteristics of the Water Tribes. I knew you'd either turn out fire or water; I just wasn't sure which one until now." He had a very foreboding yet sympathetic look in his eyes now.

I tried to take all that in. "Oh," was all I could think of to say.

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><p>And that's that. Now, be honest, how many of you saw that coming and when did you realize that? I'm sure that ending wasn't a surprise for some of you.<br>Welp, this is all the prewritten chapters I've got, so I've got to actually write the chapter before putting it up now. Hopefully, I won't get too slow with the updates.


	5. Nightmarish Realities

The days that followed went by quietly but not peacefully; the silence was more disconcerting than yelling would have been. Now that Douglas knew that I'd figured my powers out for myself, he would often give me worried glances when I would walk by, yet he never spoke a word. Sometimes, I had to try hard not to look guilty under his glare when he saw me heading to the kitchen. It was as if he knew what I was going in there for (though there aren't that many reasons for me to go to the kitchen in the first place). I could see it in his eyes that he knew I was taking some water from the wash bucket into a small cup, running up to my room, and practicing my bending, after I was sure that the door was locked and the curtains drawn, of course.

Knowing something, anything that I could do successfully gave me the motivation to practice even when I knew that a waterbender like me staying in the Fire Nation was a death-wish waiting to happen. I had only practiced for a few days, but it already started feeling normal, natural.

Then, one night, as I lay awake and tried to hypnotize myself by spinning a small amount of water around and around, I just lost it. I don't know how to explain it, but I couldn't bend anymore. The water stopped floating and splashed down, soaking a portion of my nightgown. I also can't why I was, but I was drawn to the window. I threw the curtains opened and gasped. The moon was bleeding, and the sky was soaking in the red color. I hadn't the slightest idea what was going on; all I knew was that the sky was crimson, and I felt weak now, once again without bending.

I clumsily made my way downstairs to Douglas's room. Somehow, I wasn't surprised to find him awake as well, and he didn't seem surprised to see me.

"What's happening?" I asked, more frightened than I wanted to let on.

"The moon has been killed, by…by someone." I could tell he knew exactly who 'someone' was, but I was afraid I didn't want to know. Still, I needed to know.

"Who? Who would be stupid enough to kill the moon?" I put as much force in my voice as possible. When he just looked at me with another sad look, I said, "It was my dad, wasn't it? That was the plan that he was talking about that he wanted to put in action; get rid of the moon and get rid of the Water Tribe." This time the force was mixed with pain, but that somehow made it even more powerful. It also was more of a statement than a question. I already knew it was true. I just wanted someone to confirm me right or wrong. Even though the fact was undeniable, I still felt crestfallen when he finally nodded his head mournfully.

After that, we just sat there in silence. I took note that this was at least the second awkward silence between us to last more than a couple seconds, and both times it had been related to waterbending. _I guess we won't be able to have any awkward silences soon though, 'cause there won't be any waterbenders for us to not talk about,_ I thought miserably.

This time the silence was worse. Last time, though we didn't speak, at least we parted ways quickly enough. Now we both just sat there in what was probably a state of depression for the both of us. Minutes turned into hours. We had barely moved a muscle the entire time, so my sudden and very audible gasp may have slightly startled Douglas. It didn't matter, because a whole new shock would come to him soon anyway. I had been staring blankly at the drawn curtain, just a sliver of red light poking through. Then, faintly, it grew lighter and lighter. Soon enough it had become pink. Within the minute, the light was a purest of white. Trying not to overreact, I ran over to the window. Sure as my eyes are gold, the moon was glowing brighter than I'd ever seen it, fully renewed with life.

This may make me a really bad daughter, but I got great satisfaction from knowing that my dad had failed; he'd spent all that time trying to get his plan approved just to fail. I may've not felt that way if I'd known what happened mere minutes after I felt the full moon bring back my waterbending.

Rejuvenated by the knowledge that the Water Tribe would survive to fight another day, I worked harder than ever at my bending. I was relentless in my training. I didn't even care if Douglas knew I was practicing anymore. I almost welcomed someone with more knowledge, even if he wasn't a bender. It was nice to have some support on my ability; it made me feel less alone.

Douglas actually did to try to teach me some bending. It was funny, because as wise a man as he is, it was very clear that he didn't know the first thing about waterbending. He kept telling me to attack, to be direct, headstrong, and just attack. I couldn't quite figure out what he meant. It was water, flowing but powerful. "You know, I think you're talking about the wrong element," I informed him as he chucked cutlery at me to practice deflecting with water.

"Yeah," he laughed, "maybe I am. I guess you don't see much waterbending here in the Fire Nation." I joined in on the laughing too, until we heard the knock on the door. His voice immediately got quiet. "Put the water away. I'll go see who it is."

He exited the kitchen as I dumped the water into the sink. Taking the back way, I made it from the kitchen to one of the larger and vacant guest bedrooms. I placed my ear against the door that would lead into the entrance hall. I heard the door open.

"Welcome," I heard Douglas say. "May I ask why you are here?" He sounded ever so fakely polite.

"The name's Raiden. I'm looking for Zhao's daughter. Her name's Kayla, right? Anyway, would she happen to be home?" I gasped at the name. I remembered Raiden. He was Dad's friend. Why would a friend of my dad come to see me? What had happened? I knew there was something wrong, but I focused back on the conversation when Douglas began to talk.

"Yes, I'm not sure where she is, but she's home. Let me go find her for you Sir." He turned, and I took that as my cue to show up. I pushed open the door and walked out as casually as I could.

I tried to seem surprised when I saw Raiden in the doorway. "Hello…Raiden, isn't it?" I said with just slightly fake curiosity. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to talk to you, Ma'am." He looked downtrodden and depressed.

My mind went back to recent thoughts, and I didn't have to feign curiosity this time. "What's happened? Did something happen to my dad?" I knew from Raiden's expression that I'd gotten it.

He swallowed hard and audibly. Was he choking back _tears_? "Kayla, I'm sorry. Your father…Your father…is d-d-de…" He couldn't finish the sentence, but the message got through loud and clear. Had the situation not been so tragic, a grown man dressed for battle breaking down and crying might've been humorous. Instead, it just made the situation worse, because it would take a lot to make a soldier cry.

As for me, no tears came. I was too shocked to cry. It couldn't be true. There was no way it could be true. It was many minutes before I managed to find my voice. "H-How? Who? What happened?" I guess I still hadn't fully found my voice.

Raiden choked back a sob. "Zhao disappeared early on in the battle. In his absence, we watched the sky turn red. I didn't see him back in battle until after the sky was restored, and the waterbenders seemed to find this all new strength. He was on one of the many snow bridges fighting Prince Zuko. Then a huge sea monster showed up, I think it was the ocean spirit, and just, took him." He almost managed to finish his story without breaking down again.

I managed to keep myself from going into shock, for I had too much to process. Eventually, the best thing I could come up with to ask was, "What about the prince?"

"He survived. The ocean spirit let him live for some reason. I guess it wasn't mad at him." He paused for a moment. "You know, there may be someone that you can talk to about this."

I looked at him inquisitively. "Who?"

"We managed to take some people prisoner. They don't seem very willing to talk, but if you want to, you could go try speaking with them personally."

I felt conflicted. I should be upset that my people, the water tribe, were imprisoned, but I also felt victorious revenge, as if they deserved this for what they did. "I need time to think. Maybe I can talk to them later." It took me a moment to realize I'd spoken aloud.

"Of course Ma'am," he said politely. He bowed, I returned the gesture, and he left. As soon as he left, the tears finally found their way out and spilled over. I didn't move from that spot for a long while, shaking, sobbing, and just generally wallowing in self-pity. At one point I heard Douglas leave and go elsewhere. He couldn't afford to sit around all day and mope, not that he really wanted to. It was a long time after that I finally managed to at least stop just standing around.

I decided to go back up to my room; it was the best place for me to think. When I walked in I saw my waterskin lying on the dresser, but I didn't have the heart to practice right then. I lay down and tried to think. Try as I might, no thought came to mind. My mind was numb. It was still early in the day, but with my incapacity for cerebral functions, there was nothing to do but sleep.

_I was in a room that would've been dark had it not been for all the flames casting ominous shadows on the walls. At first I thought I was alone, but on my second scan around the room, I found another person. I took a few hesitant steps forward and looked at the man. Now I needed to take an involuntary step back. There was no mistaking it. That was definitely my dad. "I can't believe you're alive!" I cried out. I reached out to touch him, to make sure he was real. "Ouch!" I pulled back my hand before I get burned. He was overheating. Actually, as I watched, he began to melt. I didn't know what to do. I was panicking. I tried to use water to cool him down, but it wouldn't work. Within a few minutes, there was nothing left but a pool of liquid and armor. _

_ In despair, for the first time since seeing my dad in the corner, I turned around to face the rest of the room, to try to find someone or something to help. I noticed that the flames had begun to spread. I pulled out the last of my water and formed a weak wall of ice around myself. It was quickly turned to steam. Just before I was completely lost in the orange flames, I heard a foreign voice and saw just a flicker or a flash of something along the wall. It was only for a moment, _but when I woke up screaming the next morning, merciless laughter rang in my ears and the shadowy, hateful face of a monster burned in my mind.

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><p>Almost 2 years? Really? What? You're kidding. Feels like it was just yesterday. Honestly, guys, some stuff has gone down these past couple...years...and I kinda fell out of the Avatar fandom. It's not that I don't still like Avatar. It's just, I used to pretty well know the characters and the story forwards, sideways, and backwards, and now I've forgotten a lot of it. Also, when I started this story way back when, I had no freaking clue where I was going with it. I know that those are shitty excuses, but it's all I can really say for myself. I'd like to continue this, but it may be hard for me to remember where I was with this, and where I was going. Sincerely, I am sorry.<p> 


	6. Finding a Teacher

By the end of the week, I found myself furious with the Fire Nation, whose twisted flames burned through my nights, and not the people of the Water Tribe, for my dad's death. Also, instead of feeling sad and sorry for myself, I only felt anger. The rage felt different, foreign, like some beast within me waking up from a deep slumber. When I tried explaining this to Douglas he told me that I had 'embraced my inner Fire Nation.' I'm now perfectly sure that it wasn't right for me just to get mad at the easiest person, or people, to blame, but after waking up from the same dreadful nightmare five nights in a row, it doesn't really put you in a cheerful mood.

It was Saturday when I'd completely ridded myself of my sadness, so I thought, and was ready to speak with the waterbenders that had witnessed everything that had happened. I already knew a lot of what had happened, but it never hurt to hear it from the source. I was going to need all the information I could get. Thus, I used the family messenger hawk to send a note to Raiden to let him know I wanted to speak with the prisoners. It was about a half hour later that he arrived.

"Are you sure you are ready?" he asked as we began to make the slow ascend to the imperial city where the prison tower was.

"I'm just talking to people," I said, voice full of determination. When he looked at me skeptically, I added sincerely, "I won't be able to move on until I know. I need this knowledge." He nodded, and we continued to walk in silence. (We would have run out of breath if we'd conversed any longer.)

I took advantage of our silence to plan out the situation. I had to be careful about what I said and did. As someone who appeared Fire Nation, interrogating prisoners doesn't make it easy to get people to tell you anything, but I also had to be careful not to reveal my waterbending to the firebenders that would inevitably be guarding the cell. I would have to have the precisely perfect words to both get what I wanted and not give anything away. I also really needed to get a way for the firebenders to leave their posts and leave me unguarded. The kind of information I needed wasn't just bland knowledge about the events that had taken place. I needed to learn how to waterbend from someone that actually knew how. This wasn't going to be an easy task, but I needed to see to it that it was an accomplished task.

Finally, after what seemed like an eon, we made it to the tower. I followed Raiden up some staircases and up and down some hallways. We eventually stopped at a door that pretty much looked like every other door I'd seen. "We're here," Raiden said. "You can go in and talk to them. I'll wait outside. If anything happens, yell or make some kind of really loud noise." He almost seemed to find the possibility of anything actually happening humorous. I took a deep breath and slipped through the door.

What I saw was absolutely pitiful. There were eight dark-skinned people crammed inside the single room – 3 men, 3 women, a little boy, and a girl probably not much younger than me. They were wearing red rag-like clothes like poor Fire Nation folk, but their hair spoke a different story, set in styles I'd never seen before. There wasn't any furniture in the room except for a small cot that no one was using. They only had thing blankets to keep them warm and looked very sad and weakened.

As soon I stepped into the room, all 16 eyes turned on me. Suddenly I felt a lot less confident that this plan was actually going to work. I just had to hope that my young age would help to make me less intimidating. Cautiously, I walked over near them and sat down cross-legged a respectable enough distance away. That way, I would be on the low ground and have a much harder time being threatening. I was neither in an offensive nor defensive position, so maybe we could just be civilized and talk. Sadly, as soon as I sat down, I knew trying to give a friendly appearance wasn't going to be enough. Even though I remained far away, they found it necessary to scoot even further away. I breathed deeply to focus my thoughts and keep myself calm. I had to get these people's trust me, or at the very least, get them to not be afraid.

"It's okay, see," I said, putting my hands up in a gesture of peace. As it turns out, they didn't think of the gesture as peaceful. They flinched at the movement as if I was going to attack. _This is going to be a long day _I thought as I calmly put my hands down and sat on them. I was doing just about anything I could to make myself less threatening, but in doing so, I was also leaving myself very vulnerable. Had the situation been different, I wouldn't have risked putting myself in such a position, but it was clear that these people were not eager to go looking for a fight. As long as they didn't think they needed to take any immediate defense, I'd be fine. I breathed deeply before continuing. The next words had to be chosen carefully for the safest results.

"You seem afraid. Why?" I stated as if I was a moron.

The answer that followed came from the girl. "We were 'invited' here personally," she said sarcastically, using air quotes to emphasize her point.

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. "I believe I asked why you seemed afraid, not why you were here…"

That shut the sarcastic girl up, but only for a moment. "I only answered the wrong question because your question can't be answered. I can't tell you why I'm afraid if I don't have any fear." She looked like she was going to continue, but one of the women, presumably her mom, pulled her back and silently told her to shut up. They all looked nervous as though the child may have already said too much.

However, I was hoping someone would be left some bravery. I could possibly talk sensibly to them, not having to waste my time with the 'lesser threat establishment' stuff. I leaned closer to the girl. "What's your name, brazen one?" I said as casually as possible to a stranger that seems to hate you.

Ignoring the others' worries, she responded, "Kamaria," looking me hatefully in the eye.

Once again, I remained casual and kind, despite the situation. In fact, the clear detesting was encouraging; at least it was better than fear. "Well, Kamaria, it's nice to meet you. I'm Kayla, and I'm glad to see that at least one of you is capable of remaining sane. I mean, I just wanted to talk to all of you, and everyone else starts freaking out or something." I really hoped that didn't sound too offensive.

"Well, go ahead, Fire Chick. People have already 'talked' to us. I don't see what more you could _possibly _need to know." Kamaria rolled her eyes as she spoke, but never abandoning the steely determination in her eyes.

I bit back a grin. _Need to know._ That was interesting choice of words. "There is just one thing, and one thing only," I said, a sly smile playing on my lips, "waterbending."

Everyone looked incredulous, though most of them tried hard not to. The keyword there is most. "Haha, very funny. Seriously, why do you feel the need to bother us?" Kamaria was the one to speak, obviously.

"It's not a joke. I don't have anyone to teach me waterbending, and at least one of you must be waterbenders. I can't just have the ability without actually learning how to use it correctly. A lot of problems could arise if I don't find a teacher." My tone was more firm and serious than it had been the entire interview. As unlikely as the situation would be to anyone, there was no denying that I was serious as a heart attack. It's so serious I used serious twice in this paragraph, without counting this sentence, alone.

Despite my tone, Kamaria still looked at me skeptically. Then, after a moment, her face darkened as she seemed to think she realized something. "Now I see what you're trying to do. You want to separate the benders and nonbenders so you can weed out the ones that can bend. The Fire Nation seemed to have really put some thought into this one, because you were almost believable. I'm not that stupid though. I know that you're merely a decoy. Sending in an innocent looking child and making them face a bunch of strangers alone disguised as a waterbender definitely isn't beneath the Fire Nation's morals." She turned her head and averted my gaze angrily.

I had to take a few calming breaths. Losing my head and lashing out would not be a good way to get their trust. If it bluntly _stated_ honesty wasn't going to work, it looked like I was left with only one option, bluntly _demonstrated _honesty. _You're going to believe me, loudmouth, _I thought while barely holding back a devious smile.

Concealed under a cloak that I was wearing was a waterskin. I began moving my hand behind my back, something that took all my focus. I hadn't a lot of time to practice waterbending without seeing the water, and when I had practiced, I was only successful every once in a while. The first few moves were unsuccessful. I must've looked really stupid sitting there with my hands under a cloak behind my back. Well, I know I looked stupid, because the others were starting to get weird looks on their faces, like they were now positive that I'd completely lost it. Finally, at least a minute later, I finally heard the slightest sloshing and felt the weight of the water shift in the pouch. The next push was stronger, and I thought cold as the water shot out of the pouch and towards Kamaria. I stopped the icicle a good 2-3 inches from her face before pulling it back towards me and holding it in my hands. Due to her aforementioned turned head, she only barely noticed it out of the corner of her eye.

"Believe me now?" I asked as Kamaria slowly recovered from her shock.

"Are. You. INSANE?" Kamaria inquired, now fully recomposed and a little ticked off.

"I knew what I was doing, sort of. It's not my fault I had to put on a show to be trusted. I suppose there was the risk that I wouldn't be a good enough, due to lack of a teacher, and I could've screwed up. I guess you'd better be glad I was smart enough to teach myself."

"There was no need to involve projectiles in this."

"Actually, there was. I needed to make my point."

"And that would be what again, exactly?"

"The point I'm trying to make is that I'm here in the Fire Nation, I'm a waterbender that hasn't yet found a master, whose dad is, er, was, an admiral in the Fire nation Army, and could be in a lot more trouble than you guys currently are if anyone found out that I was a waterbender. Granted, there's a lot to my point, but I think it covers everything. To sum it all up, I need a teacher. I've got no chance here unless I master waterbending, and even then, the odds are against me." I looked at the members of the Water Tribe, at least one of whom I hoped was a bender, with desperation. Beneath that, there was also a question that I can't quite explain why it occurred to me. _I wonder if I'm related to any of them. _It sounded really strange to think about it, even in my own mind, but I couldn't help but wonder. My mother was from the Water Tribe, so surely she had relatives there. Also, according to Douglas, she had been from the Northern tribe, just like the people seated in front of me. It may not have been highly likely, but there was still a chance that they had, at the very least, known her, if not personally.

After a moment of silence, Kamaria smiled; for the first time, a sincere, genuine smile. In normal circumstances, a smile is a small extension of kindness, like saying "Hi." However, it's very clear that these were not normal circumstances, and that smile was like a sort of understanding passing between the two of us. Of course, it lasted only for a moment before Kamaria spoke again, in a clearly different tone this time. "Well, nearly getting pierced through with an icicle is pretty darn hard to ignore." She picked up the water, sent half of it back over to me, and spun the rest in a sphere. When the water came across, I followed her example and made the water swirl around. "You just found yourself a waterbending teacher."

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><p>Here, two chapters for two years. See y'all in 2015 (I really hope I'm kidding)!<p> 


	7. Some Backstory and a Plan

I do not own the character Zhao or Avatar: The Last Airbender. Kayla, Kamaria, and Douglas, however, are my own characters.

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><p>From that moment on, I trained with Kamaria at whatever chance I had. We had to be careful about how long our training sessions were, to avoid arousing suspicion from the guards; I used the excuse of an interrogation technique to explain my visits to the guards. All in all, lessons were semi-regular, but each lesson was often very short. Often, Kamaria would teach me something that I would have to practice and master on my own, which ended up working well. My meetings with Kamaria and the others, however, weren't always about training. When we were being too closely watched to train or just on the random occasion, I would learn something far more mentally challenging: the history and culture of the Northern Water Tribe.<p>

_"Girls aren't technically allowed to learn waterbending, not for fighting anyway. The only thing we were allowed to learn was healing," Kamaria informed me distastefully._

_ I inquired, "How is it that you know waterbending then?"_

_ "Well," she responded, "girls tended to learn and master healing at a much younger age than when the 'men' started learning. The solution was simple really. I would just spy on their lessons and train in secret."_

_ "Secret, huh? Kinda what we're doing," I laughed. More seriously, I added, "How did you manage it without anyone finding out? I mean, you couldn't exactly practice at home, could you?"_

_ "And we're training in a prison tower. Not any better than training at home. And actually, I was allowed to practice at home. My mom hated the rule, and my brother, who was also a waterbender, loved to have someone to practice with. Thankfully, he learned from one of the more average masters. If he'd trained with Pakku, I don't think it would've been safe to practice at home."_

_ "Who's Pakku?" I asked curiously._

_ At that Kamaria smiled. "I forget how much you don't know." I would've been offended if she wasn't right. "Pakku is the greatest waterbending master in our tribe. I don't think there's a single person in the tribe who doesn't know him. Along with his fame, he's also the most sexist person in our entire tribe. That stupid law I mentioned? I'm almost positive we could've had it repealed if it weren't for him." There was a moment of frustrated silence before she added, "I also heard he likes noodles, a lot…"_

_ "Really?" I asked, the conversation taking on a lighter tone as we began talking about the differences between the foods of the Water Tribe and the Fire Nation._

As much as I loved training and learning waterbending, there were times where I'd found myself enjoying those history and culture lessons more. The only thing I could remember ever knowing was Fire Nation (and even my knowledge of that was lacking), so I felt content, like I belonged when we talked about the culture that I truly belonged to, and one I planned on joining. I couldn't just get up and leave, but I had every intention of going home to the Water Tribe and surviving on what I learned in the lessons, some day.

There was something so freeing about training in illegal practices in a prison, ironically enough. Feeling the flow of the water, the push and the pull, deep within, like a beast waking from a long slumber. I just knew that it was right and that every time I improved my waterbending, the closer I came to the truth of who I was supposed to be. Not to mention how much better off I would now be if I got into a fight.

I had to be very careful though, especially when I had to sneak home without my soaking wet head being noticed. And Douglas would always be home waiting for me with a "What did you screw up this time?" He was oddly supportive of my illicit studies, considering his link to the Fire Nation. He seemed more than happy to see me practicing waterbending; he acted like there was nothing wrong at all about me doing it. Maybe I would've been suspicious if I weren't so grateful that he was neither scolding me nor worrying about me getting caught. However, I knew I would eventually have to ask him about his lack of concern.

That time came a little over three months into my training. We had been practicing with selective thawing and freezing, so I was able to leave the lesson without getting completely soaked, although I had sustained a small bruise on my forehead from slipping on a patch of ice and ramming into the cell bars; however, I was able to sufficiently cover it up with my hair. Therefore, I was rather frightened when, upon entering my house, I was met by a man with a rope. I made to run for it, instinctively thinking I'd been figured out, but the man grabbed onto my arm. "Calm down. Stop moving," said a familiar voice. I swirled around to discover the attacker to just be Douglas, wielding a not-so-scary measuring tape.

"What…are you doing?" I questioned, regaining my composure.

Douglas measured the arm of mine that he was still holding before replying. "I'm composing a symphony," he answered sarcastically. "What does it look like? I'm taking measurements." He proceeded to measure around my arms, waist, and neck.

"Yes, but why? My clothes fit fine and are in good condition."

"But those are all fire nation clothes. I wanted to make you some Water Tribe robes. I know we've got some furs and blue dyes buried here somewhere." Douglas, finishing his measuring, began rolling up the tape.

"Why do I need Water Tribe attire? I-" Finally, the questions that had been simmering at the back of my mind bubbled to the surface. "Douglas, why do you seem so okay with this?"

Douglas gave me a confused. "I'm not certain I know what you mean by 'this.'"

"All of this. Speaking ill of the Fire Nation and of the war. Befriending and learning from people that very well may have had a part in my father's demise. And above all that, learning w_aterbending_ from them, something so opposed by the Fire Nation. Why are you okay that I'm a traitor and an outsider?" I demanded, my voice rising as I spoke.

Douglas stared at me in confusion and silence at me for a long moment. I waited patiently for his answer. The question may have seemed a bit rhetorical, but I truly wanted to understand. I had met people in the Fire Nation and attended their schools, and I had little doubt that even my best friend would have turned me in if she knew just that I was a waterbender, let alone that I was practicing. I could not understand why Douglas, who had been in loyal service to a Fire Nation admiral, would not share that devotion to his country and its causes.

Eventually, Douglas seemed to find his words. "You see…" he paused for a fraction of a second, "I was not born in one of the Fire Nation's big cities. Rather, I was raised in a small, rural community, where there were very few soldiers, and what soldiers that were around were the ones that didn't give a rat-fly's ass about the war, so the war, or any hate for the other nations, didn't directly affect my daily life. Now, way back, before the war, the Fire Nation was of great wealth and had a great allure to it for many. When the war started and the Fire Nation was, effectively, closed off, not everyone was just in their homes, preparing for war. In fact, many people from the other nations were still here paying their respects to the then recently-passed Avatar Roku."

Douglas paused briefly, whether to reassess his thoughts or simply allow a moment of silence, I didn't know. "The people couldn't leave, nor was it safe for them to stay, with the Fire Nation's superiority complex. Villages like my hometown were places where many took refuge. As I said, most of those folks didn't care about the war and could behave as equals. Growing up, my friends varied across all elements – Fire Nation, Earth Kingdom, Water Tribe, even Air Nomads. In fact, being as far out in the country as we were, I think there may have even been a family that was raising sky bison. I was a part of a whole world, all within a few miles.

"I started schooling to become a butler when I was… oh, sixteen, maybe a little older. It was the first time I'd really been in the city, and it was complete culture shock, considering that I'd been immersed in many cultures my whole life. I learned quickly that if I wanted to continue doing well in school and continue breathing, I shouldn't say a single kind word about anyone but the Fire Nation. For a while, it was absolutely miserable. I got through each day by dreaming of the next break when I could return to my family and speak freely again. Eventually, over the years of hearing so many slants against the other nations and so many outrageous praises for this one, they stopped fazing me. It wasn't that I agreed with them; I'd just become very excellent at pretending that I did.

"Once I got through training, I worked for a small family for about a year. There was an unfortunate mishap with a priceless heirloom. I hadn't a thing to do with it, but I was blamed anyway, and that was the end of that. It turned out to be a good thing, though, because that's when I was hired by your parents. Your father was lower in the ranks back then, so he wasn't looking for some flawless butler with an outstanding reputation. The two of them just needed someone to help care for their rather large house, especially with a kid on the way."

I automatically pointed to myself, to which Douglas gave a smile and a nod. I hadn't forgotten my question and was still waiting for an answer, but I, nevertheless, found myself enthralled by Douglas's story. It reminded me how little I knew about him or my parents.

"Your mom blended into the Fire Nation impressively well, but I eventually realized she was from one of the Water Tribes. I didn't know if Zhao knew this, – as it turns out he didn't – so I confronted her about it privately. She didn't trust me, for obvious reasons, and she insisted that I was mistaken; she even threatened to have me fired if I continued spouting such slander. When I told her about my village and the people there, she somehow knew I was sincere. She told me that her family was from the Northern Water Tribe and that she was the first of her family to try to blend into Fire Nation. She and her family had been living in a secluded area of the city amongst other Water Tribe refugees.

"As I said, your father was a lower-ranked soldier when I first met him. He had a loyalty to his family first, and then his country. As he returned from different assignments and missions, new medals and higher ranks in hand, that seemed to be rapidly changing. He wore his uniform around more. He put more emphasis on displaying Fire Nation décor and propaganda. He was often wrapped up in meetings. What was worse, he often hosted meetings here. I mean, not here in the atrium, but in this house. More and more people, important people, became well-acquainted with you and your mother…

"Whispers. They seem so…soft, so insignificant, but they're powerful. Whispers are one of the most destructive man-made forces out there. That's how it started, how this family's life started tumbling downwards. They were just whispers, offhand comments about your mom's unusual hairstyle and decorative choices, her little quirks and habits. Then those whispers got louder, until they were no longer whispers. Then the comments turned into questions, which turned into an investigation, which unfortunately led to a conclusion that your mother was from the Water Tribe, all of which eventually boiled over into an ultimatum: Zhao had to either turn in his wife or he too would be tried for treason."

"So he turned her in?" I almost shouted angrily.

Douglas shook his head slowly. "No, though I'm sure he would have if he'd had to. Instead, he figured out a third option. He warned her that guards would soon be looking for her and told her to flee. Her plan was to return to the other Water Tribe refugees, gather a crew, and sail home. A boat was reported stolen the next morning, so to the best of my knowledge, she did successfully escape. I know how much she wanted to take you with her, but…she was a fugitive; she was sure you'd be safer here.

"So as to why I'm supportive of your actions and decisions. For starters, I am the butler to your household and thus have a responsibility to serve and protect the occupants, or in this case occupant, of the household. Second, my upbringing has taught me that a bender should be allowed to train and reach their fullest potential in bending. You are a waterbender and should be able to become a great one. I was raised to have values, not just unearned loyalties. Most importantly is that, beyond being a butler, I was a family friend. I've known you since you were an infant and have helped raise you. I've been there with you through trials, triumphs, and losses. You never officially had a godparent, but I don't know how I could be more of one. I'm being a horrible friend and guardian to keep you trapped here. You should be able to get out, travel, find the northern Water Tribe and learn about your heritage and maybe even about your family… In short, I'd be doing wrong by you and me to not support you."

I struggled to find the right words. I knew Douglas meant what he said; the story was too incredible to be a lie. It was a lot of information to process. After a moment, one of the pieces managed to materialize into words. "My mom is alive?"

"I am of the belief that she is. I know that she was skilled more than enough to make it out there, but I don't know. I've not spoken to her since the night she fled. Maybe you'll be lucky enough to find out."

"You really think I can follow in her steps, that I can escape the Fire Nation and find the Water Tribe? Of course I'd love to get to the Water Tribe. It's just…I'm neither a geographical nor a nautical genius, and I have extremely limited knowledge about what's beyond this city. After all, I've lost several years of schooling, and I figure they wouldn't have been much use anyway," I rambled, my words laden heavily with skepticism.

"If you travel by night." He directed me to one of the windows and pointed into the sky outside, where dusk had fallen. "You see there? It's a little dim in the city lights, but on the ocean you would see plenty bright. That's the North Star, and it does exactly what it sounds like; it will lead you north. With that star and the moon on their side, a waterbender can find their way home."

"Okay, so I've got a navigation system, but…but what about Kamaria and everyone else? They're my friends, my kin. I can't just leave them!" I exclaimed with some desperation and concern.

Douglas, on the other hand, remained calm. "Obviously, you're not going to leave them. Every ship needs a crew. Your mother had a crew of refugees, and you will have a crew of escapees."

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><p>I won't lie to you. A good deal of this was written around or after midnight, when my brain is not at its best for proofreading. If anybody wants to casually proofread it, or if you happen to notice a mistake and want to mention it, please feel free to.<p>

This story may end up a bit short, but I think it may be near its end, depending on a few things. I could still change my mind, but it may only have a couple more chapters left.

As always, I hope I don't take forever to get out the next chapter, but I probably will. Anyway, thank you for reading and have a good day, evening, night, whatever.


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